


Happy New Year

by Laur_Alex



Category: mark fischbach - Fandom, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 10:21:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3064262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laur_Alex/pseuds/Laur_Alex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the New Year's Eve Masquerade Ball, a stranger wants to dance with you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy New Year

It was mere minutes before midnight.

Couples were dancing slowly together in the glittering ballroom. You were standing on the outskirts of the dance floor, a half full flute of champagne in your hands. You would have sat down but the corset top that was tightly cinching you in made it near impossible. 

You and your best friend had made plans months ago to go to the New Year’s Eve Masquerade Ball together. You’d both booked appointments for hair and makeup, manicures and pedicures. Dress shopping had been exciting; your friend choosing a slinky gold dress while you had fallen in love with a peacock blue coloured gown, its full taffeta skirt, its crystal studded bodice. The mask that came with it had the same glittering crystals, with peacock feathers lining the frame. 

You looked out at the dance floor and saw your friend dancing with a man she had been talking to all night. She couldn’t stand the thought of not having someone to dance with at midnight and had made it her mission to find someone. You weren’t as adventurous and while you were inwardly bemoaning the fact that, yet again, you were alone on New Year’s Eve, it wasn’t like it was the first time. 

Someone came up beside you and you stepped to the side, pulling your skirt out of the way. You raised your glass, draining the last bit of champagne out of it, and looked to set it down somewhere.

"Allow me." The stranger who was standing next to you held out his hand for the empty glass. You didn’t know exactly what to do, didn’t know what was polite in this case, and finally handed over the glass. The stranger set it down on the table next to him, and returned his attention to you. 

"Can you tell me something?"

The deep, warm baritone of his voice, combined with the champagne buzz that you’d been nursing for the last hour, made you give this person the benefit of the doubt. You glanced over your shoulder at him. He was trim and muscular. A warm tone to his skin. Dark hair. While you made your very obvious once-over of him he smiled, and proceeded to unbutton his jacket. He shrugged it off and left it hanging on the back of a chair. Your eyebrow raised slightly. You’d always appreciated a man in a waistcoat. 

He turned and intercepted your line of sight; you blushed slightly. He folded his arms in front of himself and moved half a step closer to you. “I was just wondering why you’re standing off to the side, keeping so quietly to yourself.”

You shrugged, not really having an answer for him. The champagne, however, did. “I’d look pretty silly on the dance floor all by myself.”

He nodded. “Yeah. You would.”

Well. You’d had enough of this conversation. You gave a sarcastic half smile and turned to walk away, when you felt your hand caught by his. Your head whipped around, eyes blazing.

"I didn’t mean it like that," he said by way of an apology. "I meant, if you were out there with me neither of us would look silly. Or alone."

You looked at him for a few seconds, trying to ascertain if he meant what he said, or if he was just trying to get out of being caught saying something he shouldn’t have. As far as you could tell he meant what he was saying. 

Though you were now smiling you shook your head, looking at the ground. “You don’t have to do that.”

The hand that wasn’t holding yours reached out, you felt his fingers underneath your chin, tilting your face back up until your eyes met his again. You were looking at his mask, simple and black. How his eyes were brown. How he was wearing glasses behind the mask. “You’re mistaken. It’s you that would be doing me the honour.”

Your eyes softened, and your hand gently curled around his. “All right.”

He led you into the throng of swaying couples. You assumed this dance would be like those awkward high school dances, where couples who weren’t actively dating each other kept two feet or more of distance between themselves at all times, arms outstretched and resting on shoulders or hips as you both tried to sway in time to the music. In high school you were just excited to be dancing with someone. 

All millisecond reminisces about unfulfilling dances were wiped away when he gently pulled you into his arms, holding you close against him. He placed your hand on his shoulder as he slid one arm about your waist, his other hand lightly resting on your hip. You held your skirt slightly up off the ground with your free hand.

You bit your lip. “I’m sorry if I’m not great at this. I don’t dance much,” you confessed. 

His laugh was a genuine, warm rippling, and you knew he wasn’t laughing at you so much as with you. “It’s swaying together, and you’re doing just fine. You're masking my general awkwardness perfectly.”

You allowed yourself to bask in what was happening. A handsome man, holding you close in his arms, dancing in a ballroom on New Year’s Eve. 

It was perfect. 

"Ladies and gentlemen, it’s almost ten seconds until midnight. Let the countdown begin!"

Couples stopped dancing, but not you and your stranger.

_Ten…nine…eight…_

"I have another question."

"Yes?"

_Seven…six…_

"Would you be upset if I kissed you at midnight?"

Your heart swelled.

_Five…four…_

"No. I don’t think I would."

_Three…two…_

You knew every fibre of your being should be screaming out in terror. A stranger? That you met mere minutes ago? Kissing you?!

"What’s your name?"

He smiled. “Mark.”

A stranger no more. 

It was New Year’s Eve. And just this once, for a few seconds, you would give in.

His hands cupped your face. His thumb trailed along your cheekbone. He stared into your eyes. Your faces drew closer together.

_One…_

Your eyes closed just as his lips brushed yours.

…

_Happy New Year._


End file.
